


Right Round

by babyitsbeautiful



Series: Marry Me [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya Dances for Gendry, Arya calls them Angels, F/M, Flirty Arya, Honeymoon in Volantis, Jealous Gendry, Married Gendrya, Open bar, Party, Possessive Gendry, Strippers and Free Booze, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyitsbeautiful/pseuds/babyitsbeautiful
Summary: "Arya sways gracefully around the pole to the pounding music, some hip-hop song Gendry only hears as background noise to how loudly his heart his beating in his chest."So this came from a tumblr prompt you can find here -->https://fineosaur.tumblr.com/post/186451913918/imagine-arya-and-gendry-going-to-a-party-of-someOriginal Idea goes to @gendryafanwhore with Snippet ideas from @fineosaurThe base of the story comes from my fic 'Wedding Day' but you don't necessarily have to read that first in order to follow along with this one.The title comes from Flo Rida's "Right Round" which is where my head automatically goes for a stripper song.





	Right Round

Gendry knew that an all-expenses paid honeymoon in Volantis courtesy of his new sister-in-law would be lavish, but he didn’t think it would be _this_ lavish. On top of the trip over plus the honeymoon suite at a very extravagant resort owned by Talisa’s parents, him and Arya also managed to score an exclusive invite to one of the biggest parties that some prince was having for his birthday. They didn’t know his name, nor did they care, but an invite to a fancy party with free booze is something they wouldn’t dare pass up. Especially not on their honeymoon.

The house was _huge_ , like over the top abnormally huge. I guess that’s what you can except from a young bloke who has a fortune he’ll never be able to spend in one lifetime.

After a week under the sun, this is exactly what Arya and Gendry needs on a second to last night as newlyweds in a foreign country.

The driver pulls up to the front of the house, already swarming with men in fancy suites and women who don’t mind showing off some skin. The gate along with the front door and side entrances are clad with large men in all black with earpieces and are armed at the side.

 _Rich people are so paranoid_ , Gendry thinks to himself as he helps his wife out of the car.

He must admit; his wife looks so _hot_ tonight. Arya is wearing tight black jeans that hug her every curve. Her brown hair falls freely to her shoulders and she has on a sheer beige tank top that supports the natural curve of her chest and shows off her black bra underneath.

He’s completely smitten and what’s better is she’s all _his_. He can already feel lingering eyes on the two of them, albeit more her, right as they step out into the night. On instinct, and a tab bit of possessiveness, he pulls her closer to his side as they walk to the front entrance together.

He feels slightly underdressed, with only dark jeans, a white shirt and a dark grey jacket on. But with the way Arya looks tonight, no one is going to care about him and what’s he’s wearing anyway.

After they give the guards their names and confirm they are on the invitation list, they make their way through the front doors smoothly, sliding past a hoard of people already well into their cups.

The first thing they need to do is get a drink. There’s no way in the seven hells they are going to be able to be around these rich, snobby people without alcohol in their systems.

Gendry glides Arya to the open bar with ease, “What’ll it be milady?”

Arya rolls her eyes at him playfully, having gotten used to the fact that he’ll _never_ give up that nickname for her no matter how many threats she gives him, “I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

Gendry looks at the bar keep, “I’ll have the same.”

He turns back to Arya, both of them leaning against the bar watching the party unfold, and leans over to whisper in her ear, “So how much stuff do you think we can sneak out of here before we get caught? I’m sure we could find some decent souvenirs around this lot.”

She laughs as she elbows him in the side, “Stupid.”

They turn back around just in time to find the bartender laying their freshly made drinks down in front of them.

They waste no time, downing them eagerly all the while requesting something much stronger for the next round.

Third round of drinks in hand and feeling the alcohol set in, they set off to explore the house and see what else the party has in store for them.

On the opposite side of the house they come across a large door that is blocked off with a velvet rope and one of the large bodyguards guarding the entry way.

Curious and already buzzed, they head straight for the door without thinking too much about it when the guard stops them in their place.

Just before Gendry turns around to walk back the way they came, he feels Arya stiffen beside him and whisper two words to the guard, “Valar Morghulis.”

Wide eyed and very confused, Gendry looks back at the guard to see if her words had any effect on him whatsoever.

The guard narrows his eyes at Arya for just a second before lifting the rope, allowing them to pass by.

Gendry, a bit taken back, reluctantly follows Arya through the rope and then the door, “What the _fuck_ was that? What does that even mean?”

Arya laughs shaking her head, “I have no fucking clue, but I learned a long time ago that those words can get you into pretty much anywhere here in Essos, and I’ve always wanted to see if it would work.”

With the alcohol clearing taking effect, Arya laughs uncontrollably, “I can’t believe,” she holds on to her stomach gasping for air in between sobs of laughter, “that actually worked.”

Gendry smiles at her, “You are bloody brilliant you know that?”

He follows her down a long dark hallway, closer to where there is light and music blasting from every corner.

“I know.” She says flirtatiously with a flip of her hair. They laugh and stumble along with way, all the while trying to keep their hands on each other however possible. Arya hugs him to her side and sticks her hand in his back pocket while Gendry wraps an arm around her shoulder, smothering her with sloppy drunk kisses on the side of her head.

Once they reach the source of the light and the music at the end of the hall, they freeze like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Now this is a party,” Arya beams brightly, clearly liking what she is seeing.

Aligned on the far back wall is another open bar, much like the one they visited earlier in the evening, except this one is far less discreet.

Waitresses wearing subtle, yet sexy, lingerie are hustling about, keeping the drinks flowing and the atmosphere full. Full of passion and lust to match the adorning stripper poles in the large and crowded room.

That’s the _first_ thing they notice upon entering. The poles are on small red stages throughout the room, clad with very attractive women ravishing them to their fullest degree. Small chairs and tables along with larger couches fill the empty spaces on the floor around them.

Men and women alike fill the crowded space, some talking amongst themselves on the couches, while others sit in the small chairs, current company being the hired entertainment for the night. But where most of the crowd’s attention seems to be is the lovely women on the poles. They spin slowly, like angels learning how to fly and have everyone in their audience in a lustful trance.

Gendry, despite his inebriated state, is suddenly becoming uncomfortable in a room with his wife, half naked women, and lustful horny rich men.

He shifts on his feet, “Come on, I don’t think we should be here.”

Arya looks at him incredulously, “Seriously? You want to leave? This is fucking _awesome_. It might be the alcohol talking, but when are we ever going to get another chance to have an experience like this?”

Arya pouts her lips at him begging for him to give in and _of course_ he fucking does because she looks so damn hot right now and he can never tell her no, no matter the circumstances.

“Fine. We can stay, but I’m going to need another drink first.”

Arya jumps up and down like a toddler, “Yay!”

“You’re coming with me; I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Arya becomes serious, face scrunching up, giving him a mock salute, “Aye aye, captain,” and then erupts into fits of laughter once more.

Gendry grabs her hand leading her to what he hopes is still an open bar.

 _Thank the gods above_ , he silently prays as he orders more free drinks for him and Arya.

They sit awfully close on their respected barstools, watching the party unfold.

After their third round in what Arya has deemed the ‘Red Room’ because of the décor, they drunkenly decide to get a closer look at the ‘angels,’ another nickname from Arya, on the poles.

The find one of the less occupied couches in front of one of the several poles throughout the room and sit down comfortably.

Gendry, being the gentleman and good husband that he is, adverts his eyes as to not stare at the angel too much for fear of jealously from his wife.

She laughs at his awkwardness keeping her face close to his while sipping on her drink. The atmosphere is as alive as ever and the music gives way to the feel of the room.

Dancing along to the beat from her spot on the couch next to Gendry, she looks up and catches the attention of the angel dancing before her.

The angel keeps her gaze, and with one leg around the pole alone with one hand holding it for support, she reaches out her other hand to point straight at Arya.

Arya blushes profusely while the angel gives her a lustful wave of her fingers, motioning for Arya to join her on the stage.

Gendry follows her gaze to the woman on the stage as Arya motions to get up and do as she’s told.

“What are you doing?” Gendry manages to stumble out.

“What?” Arya looks back at him, hand still holding on to his from where he is sitting on the black velvet couch.

Gendry is absolutely stunned. He has no words. He can’t form a reasonable reason as to why his wife shouldn’t go up on that stage. Truth be told, there’s nothing he wants more right now and it completely _thrills_ him from head to toe, and _everywhere_ in between.

Arya laughs at his boyish grin, “Look at it this way, you technically didn’t get to have a bachelor party thanks to my impromptu wedding, so this is my way of making up for it.”

She winks at him as she lets go of his hand in place of grabbing the angel’s awaiting hand to help lead her on the stage.

In her drunken stupor, Arya manages to climb on the stage as gracefully as ever.

Gendry take another sip of his drink as he watches the angel on stage teach his wife how to dance on the pole.

 _Holy shit, this is actually happening_ , Gendry thinks to himself, _my wife is about to dance on a stripper pole. This is the Best. Honeymoon. Ever._

He settles on the couch ready to watch something he can only conjure up in his deepest fantasies.

The angel stops her routine for about thirty seconds to show Arya how it’s done and then leaves her to it by herself to take what he assumes is a much-needed break.

What he sees next, makes a lump form in his throat and all the blood rush straight down to the growing bulge in his jeans.

Arya sways gracefully around the pole to the pounding music, some hip-hop song Gendry only hears as background noise to how loudly his heart his beating in his chest. She wraps one leg around it while grasping the pole with her hand, as far up as her arm will go. With one good push of her other leg, her body molds to it like glue, her back is arched, bending perfectly to give her the leverage she needs to spin around with ease, body falling from the top, all the way down to the floor.

She repeats the swaying motion, grabbing the pole seductively with both hands, and swings back and forth in a playful, yet sultry way.

She catches Gendry’s eye and then releases a hearty laugh at his expression. His eyes are wide, eyeing her body up and down with this boyish fazed grin splattered across his face.

She keeps her eyes locked on his, the air of lust flowing through them not lost on anyone.

A wave of jealously suddenly hits him like a freight train when he realizes that the men on this side of the room, are too, watching Arya with the same lustful eyes.

Stumbling slightly, he manages to stand on his feet and give Arya a slow clap of appreciation, throwing in small whistles and looking around the room to half shout, “That’s my _wife_! It’s she just gorgeous?”

Arya laughs at her husband’s obvious possessiveness towards her, but continues her dance, nonetheless.

Gendry sits back down, still appreciating the sight before him. Beads of sweat drip down Arya's chest and disappear underneath her black lacey bra, and Gendry's mouth goes dry. He feels as if though all eyes in the room are on his wife, but he can't find the will to care when she's looking at him like _that_.

Like he’s the only one in the room and the _only one_ she’s dancing for.

As he watches her, he feels a tall man approach the couch to stand behind him. He looks up and follows the man’s gaze to his wife on the stage. His lips are in a firm line, but his eyes, _oh his eyes_ tell a completely different story.

The man speaks as if though he is directing his words to Gendry, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Arya, a scotch in hand, “She’s quite a sight to see.”

Gendry manages to reply between gritted teeth, jealously getting the better of him, “Aye, that she is.”

The man hears the tension in Gendry’s words and then laughs calmly, “Easy, mate. I heard you earlier, I know she’s your wife. I’m just trying to say that you’re a lucky man is all.”

Gendry relaxes slightly as the man gives him a small smile and then walks away, never looking back at Arya.

Arya sees the scene play out, hoping that Gen doesn’t do something stupid like get into a drunken bar fight over her. Although his jealousy is endearing.

She continues swinging provocatively as the stranger walks away.

She looks down at Gendry and gives him a teasing smile, “Hey stupid, you know this is only for you.”

She gives him a quick wink, swinging around the pole once more flipping her hair in a sexy way as she goes.

Gendry settles back into the couch with a lopsided grin as Arya continues to glide gracefully up and down the pole.

____________________________________

A few more dances, drinks, and several hours later, they finally manage to escape the madness and head back to their hotel.

In the car on the drive back, Gendry and Arya get _very_ comfortable in the backseat.

She straddles his lap kissing him feverishly, as his hands roam her thighs and grab onto her hips holding her in place.

He pulls his lips away from hers, “How opposed are you to me putting a stripper pole in our living room?”

She laughs and every inch of his body tingles with pleasure.

“I’d consider it, on one condition.”

Gendry looks taken back by her response, “What’s that?”

Arya smiles smugly, “You do a strip tease for me at least once a week to “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred.”

Gendry laughs loudly, “If that’s what it takes to get you to do _that_ again for me, then it’s a done deal.”

Arya laughs with him, “I love you, stupid.”

“I love you too. This has been the best honeymoon _ever_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing married Gendrya so much. If you think of something related to married Gendrya you want to see written, send me an ask on Tumblr and I'll be happy to oblige. Happy reading.


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